


all the ways I could miss you now

by jakia



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, TW: Suicide, angst angst angst, the whole fic is about death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakia/pseuds/jakia
Summary: Five times Caleb and Essek suffer due to the difference in their natural lifespans, and two times they do not.[Shadowgast, angsty. Read the chapter notes for the tags and triggers related to specific chapters.]
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	all the ways I could miss you now

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: suicide, suicide after the death of a loved one

A hundred and forty four years is a long time. 

A very long time, especially for a human. Most humans don’t live that long, but wizards find ways to break the rules, even when they don’t really intend to. There's something about using magic that extends a life, even a fragile, human one.

They talked about Caleb's fragile and short human lifespan before, of course, and tried to make other plans. There are ways to extend one’s lifespan, and they’ve considered their options. It would be easy enough to make sure Caleb lived for a long, long time.

Such methods, of course, inevitably lead to lichdom, but isn’t that a small price to pay, if it means they’ll get to stay together?

Caleb had laughed at him when he suggested it, and then kissed him on the forehead. “I don’t think I’d make a very good lich, do you?”

It’s odd, seeing him like he is now. It happened so gradually that Essek hardly thought to pay attention to it as it was happening. Where once was vibrant red hair is now thinned and gray. There are wrinkles and laugh lines all along his face, and he wears glasses over his bright blue eyes because he can’t see well without them. He can’t walk well without his cane anymore, and his joints hurt him most days. He has old scars that cause him a lot of pain--there’s one on his chest in particular that flares up on the bad days--but he is, in general, in good health. But there is no denying that he is old, now.

Essek hasn’t changed a bit.

He _has_ , of course he has. But at two hundred and thirty one, he looks physically the same as he did at as hundred and twenty--there are a few more scars, of course, and he’s changed his hair several times in the past century--but he’s still agile and fit, and he still _feels_ young.

Caleb doesn’t.

They get strange looks when they are together, now, out in public, and there have been times when people have asked if Essek were Caleb’s son or grandson _(I am ninety years older than him_ , Essek usually snaps when they say such things, _I am his_ **_husband_ **.) So they don’t go out as much anymore--but that’s okay. With magic, they can get most anything they want, and anything they can’t get, their daughter or one of their former students is more than happy to grab it for them.

Still, Caleb’s days are numbered, in a way Essek’s days are not.

“Won’t you reconsider?” Essek asks, begs, practically, before bed one evening. It is an argument they’ve had a thousand times before. “ _Please._ I know we’ve discussed this to death, but I don’t want to be around without you. I know you worry about lichdom but the thought of living without you _pains_ me, Caleb, I--”

His husband’s hand--still firm and strong, but wrinkled now, with age spots darkened in places--leans over and squeezes his hand tightly, comforting him.

“Humans were not meant to live such long lives,” Caleb tells him, with such absoluteness that Essek thinks that may be the end of their discussion for the night. “I--I worry I would lose myself, if I tried to live for so long.”

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Essek assures him. He picks up Caleb’s hand--his ancient, bony hand--and kisses it sweetly. “I wouldn’t let you lose yourself.”

“I will think about it, ja?” Caleb says slowly. It is the first time in _years_ that he’s given it a consideration. Essek will take his victories where he can get them. “I do not want you to be lonely, but I also do not-- _rest_ would be nice, you know? And you are still young and beautiful. You would do fine without me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Essek shakes his head. “Caleb, I wouldn’t ever be able to move on. I love you too much. All I ask is that you consider it. Consider staying alive with _me_ ,” Essek swears, and then they go to bed.

Of course, Caleb dies that night.

Rolling over, unable to sleep, Essek watches the rise and fall of Caleb’s chest, and then it stops, suddenly. One minute Caleb is alive, asleep, and the next, he isn't, and Essek isn’t able to stop it. 

His heart, Essek guesses. Of course it’s his damn heart--the thing that Essek loves the most-- that kills him in the end.

He tries everything he can think of to save him, but there’s nothing to be done. Caleb is dead, and outside of a cleric or a wish spell, there is nothing that will bring him back, now.

Even then, Caleb’s soul would have to be _willing_ to come back. And Essek doesn’t think he would be so willing--not now, at least.

Immediately he begins to cry, grief and frustration overwhelming him. His first reaction is _anger_ \--he’s so _angry_ at him, so frustrated that he’s _gone_ that he’s frozen in fear and anguish.

He cries for an hour, maybe two, before he pulls himself together enough to speak to the empty room, and to Caleb’s corpse.

“You said humans weren’t meant for such long lives,” Essek whispers, brushing the hair out of Caleb’s face. “But you know what I think? I don’t think elves were meant to live so long, either. I don’t think _I_ was ever meant to live without you.”

“Part of why I was so reckless, all those years ago, starting the war like I did--it was in part because I had become so numb to life. And I was only a hundred then. When you live for so long, nothing seems to matter, anymore. It’s what happened to my mother, you know?”

He shakes his head, and wipes his eyes. “I’m not going to let it happen to me. I will not let myself fall to darkness again just because you are not there to catch me and drag me back to the light.”

Essek is not a religious man, but he prays, for a moment, to whichever god is listening. Prays to the Luxon, to the Wildmother, to the Traveler, to the Raven Queen, that whatever afterlife Caleb has ended up in, he will end up in, too. That the gods will grant them enough mercy to let them spend eternity together.

He kisses Caleb’s forehead sweetly, and then takes the dagger out of the nightstand drawer, and lays down beside him in their bed.

“I will see you soon, my love.”

* * *

When their daughter finds them the next day, she finds two dead bodies, not just one.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on making this a series of individual one shots, where I explore different ways Caleb and Essek deal with their different lifespans. Next one will be less angsty, I promise. 
> 
> (Though still, uh, a little angst, as it still deals with death.)


End file.
